Two hours before midnight
There runs the engin of the bus
Passengers prepped for the night
Fully-fuelled, the wheels spin

Awake for some time
Chats occurring at the same time
With different mother tongues
All sounding gibberish as I heard none

As sleep lurked to overcome my eyes
Deep thoughts occupied my mind
Thoughts that worth a dime
Screeching snores were rife
Some encounters aren't fine
At last, my eyes surrendered to the divine
Gift of sleep

© siphe